Family Doesn't Stop at Blood
by PeltyraTheMage
Summary: Young half elf Malthon was perfectly content living life on a farm with his mother and father. One tragic incident later, and he finds himself living with a completely different family in Rivendell. Many adventures are had. (A series of one-shots)
1. Malthon PoV 1

"Mama! Could you tell me a story!" Malthon absolutely loved his mother's stories, no matter what they were about. It wasn't like he really paid all that much attention to the content of them (she had a tendency to go on about boring things like decoration), he just loved the soothing sound of his mother's voice as he drifted off to sleep. When his father told him stories, they were always something adventurous and high-paced, full of battles and heroes saving the day, leaving the six year old far too excited to close his eyes long enough to sleep. As such, it had become an unspoken rule that his father was not allowed to tell stories before bed.

Malthon was staring wide eyed at his mother, who smiled as she finished drying that evenings dishes "Are you ready for bed?" She asked, gesturing vaguely to the slight disaster that the young boy had left next to the washbasin. With a sheepish look on his face, he bounced back across the room to clean up his mess.

Their house wasn't very big, being the standard farm house found in Rohan that it was. Standing in the right corner it was possible to see everything going on in the house at any given moment. His father, who was in fact an elf of Rivendell, had told him stories of his previous home, before he left in order to be with the daughter of a Rohirrim farmer. The idea of so much space to play in had seemed impossible to his young mind. Perhaps he was used to it, but the warmth of the hearth, his father's cooking giving off delicious smells at meal time, being able to see his parents if he woke up in the middle of the night, and the knowledge that he need not go to far for anything, seemed unnatural to live without.

"When Malthon had finished cleaning up and crawled back into his small bed, his mother sat down on the edge with a smile. His father had come in from securing the horses while he was occupied, and took up the spot on the opposite side of the mattress.

Together, his parents told him an impressive tale involving all sorts of creatures and an incredibly talented archer, and the young half-elf wasn't sure when the story moulded into a dream. More than likely around the time that all the food the adventurer came across turned into his mother's delicious sweet rolls.

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"Malthon, sweetheart, wake up!" The unusually urgent tone, unfamiliar despite the voice belonging to his mother, shook Malthon awake much quicker than he normally would in the morning. He heard a shout, and the panic on his mother's face came into sharp relief in the low light coming from the hearth. With a rather rough pull, Malthon was on his feet and being shepherded towards a window facing the fields in the back, as well as the tool shed.

"Hide in the shed, love, and do not come out no matter what you may hear." Tears had started leaking down the young boy's face, his father rushing in and urging them to hurry not helping his fear.

"Mama, papa..." His mother ignored his weak pleading, kissing him firmly on the forehead as she lifted him over the windowsill, just before the door cracked loudly.

"Stay quiet, and be strong. I love you, my son."

Despite the urge to climb back to his mother, Malthon ran across the yard, tears streaking down his face, and made it to the shed just as the yelling started. He stumbled to a stop, his small hand resting on the open door, and turned to see a vague outline of his mother and father through the window, as well as several men he did not recognize. He couldn't tell what was going on, but his mother screamed, and the young boy swallowed a loud sob, stumbling blindly into the shed.

It was dark, the tears in his eyes making even the subtle outline of the objects around him indistinguishable, he was wearing nothing but his night shirt and underpants in the cold spring night, and as he sat there with his hands covering his ears and the door opened wide enough to see a portion of the house, his young eyes caught a shimmer of orange. A small glowing light that grew bigger, bringing with it smoke to blot out the starry night.

Malthon cried, not bothered any more if he was sobbing loudly and uncontrollably. He was sure the men were gone anyway, now that his home was being reduced to ashes. He cried until it hurt to cry. He heaved and hiccoughed, curling into a ball and silently whimpering until blackness crept into his mind and pulled him into the clutches of sleep.

His dreams were filled with fire and screams and at some point he was sure somebody had picked him up, but his mind was far too exhausted to care. The fire played through his dreams, alongside the horrible screams, over and over again.

He was woken several hours later by sunlight streaking across his face. His parents were gone, along with his home. And he had no idea where he was or how he came to lie in this new bed.

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**A/N: Another chapter will be up very shortly, as this is more of an introductory thing than anything.**


	2. Elrond PoV 1

As if the news of Gaelnor and his wife's death wasn't tragic enough, their six year old son had just lost his parents and the only family that he knew.

When Glorfindel had returned from the destroyed farmhouse with a small half elf and very little that could be salvaged, the boy had been so exhausted that moving him into Estel's bedroom hadn't woken him in the slightest. Elrohir had suggested moving a spare bed into the rather large room, which Estel had readily agreed to, and even during the process of switching him into his own bed, the young boy had stayed fast asleep.

Gaelnor had been a close friend, and the most skilled weapon smith the elf lord had ever met. It hadn't been a difficult choice to accept young Malthon as his second adopted son. As he knew they would, all his other children had agreed, especially Estel. No doubt the idea of having somebody close to his own age to play with excited the eight year old.

"_Ada_! He's awake!" Speaking of eight year old boys. Elrond turned a soft smile on his older charge, who was eagerly pulling a much more reluctant, smaller child along behind him.

"Thank you, Estel. I believe Erestor was looking for you to begin today's lesson." With a hand resting on the now pouting boy's shoulder, the elf lord gently guided him out of the room, leaving him alone with the quiet boy still standing by the door.

"How was your sleep, little one?" Elrond asked, once again getting comfortable in his chair. With a gesture, he urged Malthon to sit across from him, offering him a hand (which he politely refused) as he climbed onto the tall chair.

"Are my mama and papa here?" Elrond's heart melted at the hopeful look on the young boy's face. He could tell that even his young mind knew he would never see his parents again, making this entire ordeal so much more heartbreaking.

"I'm afraid not, Malthon." The moment the tears started, the elf lord moved to kneel with small hands clasped in his own larger ones. "You'll be staying here, in Rivendell, now." He watched the boy nod, noting how the tears disappeared and were replaced by a determined look just before his deep blue eyes turned up to meet his own.

"Thank you. I'll make sure not to do anything to make you mad at me." He nearly chuckled at the boy's determination, opting to pull him gently into his arms instead.

"Do not worry, I have a lot of patience." After raising a set of troublesome twins it was hard not to gain an incredible level of patience. "Come, I'd like to introduce you to your new siblings." He smiled at how excited the young half elf was by this notion, offering him a hand (which he accepted this time) as he stood up.

Although weary at first, it did not take long for Malthon to take a liking to his new family. Elladan and Elrohir had managed to get the little boy giggling uncontrollably. Arwen had promised to bring him for a horse ride when he was a bit bigger. As for Estel, the excited eight year old had scarcely taken a break while chattering about everything he could come up with. It took nearly all day to pull Malthon away from all the elves that had trickled in to meet the lord of Rivendell's new charge.

"Come, Malthon. We need to find you some clothes." The little boy looked down at the slightly big clothes that Estel had let him borrow. The pale blue shirt and light grey pants were from the older boy's last growth spurt, and although they suited Estel well, the light colours did not go well with the deep blue eyes and near black hair of Malthon.

With Estel, who had convinced Erestor that meeting his new brother was far more important than his lessons, chattering the entire way to the tailor, Elrond accompanied the boys to the tailor. He tuned out the chattering come from Estel and focused on the wide eyed boy looking around in awe. He briefly wondered how much Gaelnor had told his son about Imladris. Halfway to their destination, Malthon started paying attention to his new brother.

"The lessons are really boring most of the time. Especially history stuff. But it's worth sitting through, because afterwards, Elledan and Elrohir will take us to the training yard and teach us to fight." The excited boy waved a hand as if he were wielding a sword, and grinned excitedly at his audience.

"I've never held a sword." Malthon admitted quietly, turning his attention to the ground ahead of him. Estel quickly hid the look of surprise that crossed his face, and gave a slight shrug.

"I'm sure Elledan will teach you. He's really good, always beats Elrohir. But Elrohir is amazing with a bow, so it balances out." Estel had quickly managed to once again capture the attention of Malthon, who no longer found the ground so fascinating, and Elrond could not be prouder of the eight year old.

Their trip at the tailor's did not take long, and in no time Malthon was dressed in a set of clothes that were slightly big in order to allow for growing. They had tried all sorts of colours in many shades, though Malthon was insistent on the darker shades of blue and green. With the help of Estel, they managed to convince him to pick some lighter colours in case it got really warm. The black and dark grey clothing had been downright refused, until he started to pout and they agreed to let him get a black cloak as a compromise.

With the clothes wrapped in thin cloth, they returned back across Rivendell to their living quarters. Much to the relief of the elf lord, Malthon had started replying to Estel's eager chattering, though he was still quite shy.

After getting Malthon completely settled into Estel's room, Elrond allowed the two boys to go play in the garden. The elf lord quickly returned to his office, and the package that Glorfindel had brought back with the boy. He had been hesitant to open it at first, but now he gently pulled aside the deep red cloth. Inside the package, everything was slightly covered in ash.

After sifting through all the contents, he pulled out several small trinkets. None of it was particularly special, except for the ring. He recognized it as the ring that Gaelnor had made for his wife when they got married, and was immensely glad that it had not gone missing.

For now however, the ring as well as the rest of the package would be stored alongside Gaelnor's old bow and arrows, until Malthon was old enough to make use of any of it.

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**A/N: The actual one-shots begin next chapter. I have a few written, but I'm alway open to suggestions.**


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